Buds Of Life
by Lady Eleanor Boleyn
Summary: Five Cousins. Five Births. Five Flowers. Each cousin has his or her own.
1. Edelweiss, Bella

**AN: For Caitlin's Flowers Challenge, as well as my own Births, Marriages and Deaths Challenge, since I never got to upload anything for that one. 411 words.**

It was a stormy January night when Druella brought her first daughter into the world. A daughter, instead of the son she had craved. She couldn't help but feel disappointed. All those months, all the weeks and days and months of not being able to fulfil her marital duties; of not being able to attend balls as she loved to do; of gaining weight and losing her natural slender beauty. Of knowing that, when Cygnus attended alone, as propriety demanded, he was surrounded by younger, prettier, more available, women.

And for what? A daughter. A daughter. A worthless daughter.

But the smile on Cygnus's face as he came into the room, carrying their baby daughter, forestalled her apologies. He laid the little girl in her arms, saying, "It's all right, Ella. If we can have a healthy daughter, we can have a healthy son. And isn't she just such a Princess? Our Princess Bellatrix."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you'd heard her screaming when she came out. She was definitely more of a Bellatrix then," Druella retorted, her voice just a fraction too tight to be jocular. Cygnus hesitated, unsure what to say. At last, he merely held out the hairpin of jewelled flowers he had tucked into the pocket of his robes.

The pin was 24-carat gold and the smooth white flowers were made of mother-of-pearl.

"How lovely," Druella murmured. Exhausted beyond measure by her travails, she could hardly summon the proper enthusiasm, but the gift truly was gorgeous.

Luckily, Cygnus seemed to understand. Without a word, he bent and pinned it into Druella's tumbled curls, letting his hand linger there just a moment longer than was strictly necessary.

"They're Edelweiss," he whispered, "Edelweiss for noble purity. Edelweiss for the birth of our Black Princess."

The last bit fell from his lips not while he was looking at her, his exhausted wife, but instead at the fussy infant in her arms. He laid a hand on the babe's head and she quieted instantly.

Faced with the over-indulgent note in his voice and her own relief at his ability to quiet Bellatrix, all Druella could do was nod. Nod and wait for him to leave before she summoned a House Elf to take the child – who had begun screaming the second her father left the room, as though she could sense her mother's indifference - from her and deliver it into the charge of the already-hired wet-nurse and Lady Governess.


	2. Borage, Sirius

**AN: Sirius for both of Caitlin's challenges. 100 words...I hope to get 200, 300 and 500 words done for the other three cousins...**

Walburga Black cradled her new-born son, triumph swelling in her breast. She'd done it! She'd succeeded where Druella had failed thrice over! She'd given the House of Black, The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, an heir!

A wide, self-satisfied smile spread over her face and, as her child – her son - began first to cry, then to nuzzle at her breast, seeking the food he was craving, she glanced around the room.

Only one thing stuck in her mind, however. The Borage blooming over the ornate fireplace.

Borage. Borage for Courage. Borage for the Noble House of Black.


	3. Snapdragons, Andromeda

**Andromeda. 200 words. **

Druella's second pregnancy went no better than her first. Though she was at least used to the morning sickness, she still fretted over her inability to satisfy Cygnus as a wife should; over her loss of beauty; over the chance that she might be supplanted in her rightful place in his affections, if not on his arm when they went about in Society.

If her child had been a boy, she would have been able to accept it. After all, as the mother of Cygnus's son and heir, of the future Lord Black, she would have been invincible. But, yet again, it all came to naught. Yet again, she failed in her duty. Yet again, she brought forth a daughter, rather than the much needed heir.

Cygnus was disappointed this time. She could tell. Not only did it take him a moment too long to smile encouragingly at her and hold out his arms for their daughter, but the gift he summoned for her wasn't made of precious stones this time. It was a simple brooch of snapdragons. Snapdragons fixed to a pin of bronze and charmed to keep them fresh.

Snapdragons. Snapdragons for a virtuous lady. Snapdragons for Andromeda.


	4. Purple Hyacinths, Regulus

**Regulus. 315 words.**

Walburga cradled the babe in her arms, smiling serenely up at her sister in law and three nieces. Eleven year old Bellatrix looked as though she could barely withhold a snort of derision. Stupid girl. She clearly thought herself above visiting her aunt and new-born cousin. But give it another ten years and she'd be here, in Walburga's position. If only someone would teach her that; teach her to do her duty.

It was Cygnus's fault no one did, of course. He indulged that girl shamelessly.

Thank Merlin her sisters were more sensible. Especially nine year old Andromeda. _She_ was gazing rapturously at the little boy in Walburga's arms. It was obvious _she _would make a fine mother when the time came.

"He's a beautiful boy, Walburga. What do you plan to call him?" Druella's voice broke into Walburga's reverie. Walburga glanced at her. The other woman's voice was tight and her smile strained. It was clearly an effort for her to stay calm. As well it might be. Druella had had three children and still hadn't given Cygnus the boy he needed. And it was seven years since Narcissa's birth. Though neither of them brought it up, both women knew that Druella's chances of ever providing Cygnus with an heir were slimming fast.

"Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black," Walburga said silkily, laying claim to the name that Druella had had planned for her own son from the very first time she had found herself with child.

There was a tense silence.

Suddenly, Narcissa burst into the room, laying a bunch of purple hyacinths on the bed.

"I picked them for you!" She said breathlessly.

The women exchanged a glance over her head. "_She wasn't to know._

Walburga stroked Narcissa's hair, "They're lovely. And purple's such a regal colour. Perfect for our little King."

_If only they didn't mean our little King is sorry for something._


	5. Roses and Hibiscus, Narcissa

**AN: Narcissa. 505 words. Full Title is Roses, Purple Hyacinths, Hydrangeas and Hibiscus...**

Little Capella was a frail child. Even Cygnus, who didn't pretend to know anything about babies, could see that. So when he gave her mother a crown of white roses to mark her birth, the meaning was threefold. Roses for their love, white for the child's purity…and they were charmed to change colour when the child's health either strengthened or failed altogether. Red for life. Black for death.

They darkened to black within twenty-four hours.

* * *

Siofra Beauty Rosier screamed with pain as, in one great warm slithery rush, her child finally forced its way out of her and into the world. The cruel world of the Purebloods. A world that would never accept a bastard as one of its number. Especially not a bastard born of incest.

"A girl! My Lady, you have a beautiful baby girl!" The midwife, not realising who she was talking to, nor what the circumstances were, spoke heartily. Ignoring the wave of pain that swept over her, Siofra forced herself into a sitting position.

"Give her to me," she croaked, holding out her arms imperiously.

A second later, the child was in her arms. Siofra nodded to the midwife to hand her the miniscule necklace – the one with the amethyst hyacinth hanging from it. Clasping it about the baby's throat, she kissed the tiny roseate brow for the first and final time and handed it, the letter that was waiting on the nightstand and a brooch in the shape of a hydrangea to the House Elf who came bustling into the room.

"Go to my sister, Blinka. She'll know what to do," she ordered, fighting to keep the tremor from her voice. She watched it Apparate away, then dismissed the midwife.

Only once she was alone did she let the tears come; let them flood down her cheeks as she whispered, "I'm sorry, Irial. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please!"

* * *

"Her name's Irial Narcissa. Irial Narcissa Mercy Rosier," Druella explained, cradling the fair-haired infant close. Cygnus shook his head.

"Impossible. She can't have a Rosier name. People would ask questions. She looks too fair for a Black anyway. Thank Merlin you've got the Rosier hair and eyes and skin. We can say she looks like you."

"Narcissa, then. Please. At least let's keep part of the name Siofra chose for her. It would mean the world to Siofra."

"Siofra's in no place to be begging favours. We're bending over backwards for her already."

Druella winced at the anger in Cygnus's tone. Yet still she persisted, "For my sake, then. Please."

"Oh, very well. Narcissa it is. Narcissa Cha-"

"Chastity. Narcissa Chastity Black," Druella interrupted. Cygnus stared at her. She stared him down, and when she spoke her tone was icy with determination.

"I'm not calling her after Capella. I'm not."

Cygnus nodded curtly, then stalked from the room. Behind him, Druella smoothed down the baby's downy blonde hair, fastening a tiny silver hibiscus to the necklace, murmuring, "Don't worry, Cissy. I'll love you enough for two Mamas. I promise."


End file.
